Never Lonely
by attatched to crayons
Summary: Every mother struggles raising a child and every child struggles to be perfect.
1. Chapter 1

**Born**

* * *

Hellas held the world in her hands. She could destroy anyone trying to threaten her land with just the flick of a dainty, delicate wrist. Her narrow torso, long legs, and curvacious hips also helped to transfer enemies from one side to her's. Perhaps the abusive powers of her features were how she became pregnant.

She had noticed a small stomach growing innocently underneath her silky white dress, showing through more and more by the week. _Maybe I need to train more... _she would say while removing her robes to step into a rippling, cleansing pond.

_How have I become sick? _the woman would ask herself as she vomited out of nearby windows. At this point, she had the thought of carrying a child but brushed it off. It wasn't until her stomach was as big as a watermelon before she had to accept it.

* * *

The woman held onto the sheepskin with one hand, her other pounding on the ground. Her hair was a mess, tangles of brunette hair sprawled out on the ground and stuck to her face with sweat. She let out a few shrieks of pain as she pushed. With one loud, "AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" she had birthed a child, alone in the barn she had hid in. No one was allowed to view a vulnerable Hellas in pain.

The newly proclaimed mother slowly bended forward to view the newborn. To her surprise, it was a male. His emerald eyes shone up at her as he cried, bellowing whines arising from him. Cautiously, Hellas placed a few fingers underneath his head as she pulled out a dagger from a pouch by the blanket. A surgical slice separated her and the child's cord. With a sturdy stack of wood and a high pain tolerance, the mother slowly raised from the ground with son in one arm, keeping both of her legs together as she shuffled out of the barn and into the darkness of night.

A shallow stream lay behind the building. She had made her way to it within a few minutes, a long time for the elder Greek. Gently, she crouched her body down and cupped a handful of running water, letting it run over her child's body as she hovered the dripping hand over him.

The bitter cold water made the baby scream with pain to the exotic feeling. "Shush my child, it will be alright," she soothed, cradling him in both arms now. When his hollers finally subsided, Hellas fed him. As she did so, she thought of what he should be named after, since he _was _the son of ancient Greece.

His tiny hand grabbed onto her finger, squeezing it faintly. _He has some strength_, she thought, watching the water flow next to her in the frigid waters. The woman closed her eyes in thought. She daringly tilted her neck backwards so her eyes would only see the constellations. Once open, she laid inquisitive chocolate eyes on the stars, making out the automatic outline of Hercules.

"Hmph." Hellas snubbed the Roman god. Only Greek gods can do for her child. The mother glanced down at her son, who was now staring at her with wide eyes.

"You will be Heracles."


	2. Chapter 2

**Physical Age-5**

* * *

"This is all your fault, you know."

The Greek woman perched her chin upwards with her hands, elbows resting on the granite pillar in front of her. She lazily placed a finger through a silky curl and yanked at it. An eye stayed on her child, who was at the moment chasing a grey and black cat a good distance away in the field. Hopefully it wouldn't have its fur plucked or tail pulled to spark any sudden scratches on his olive skin.

"I know it is. You don't have to remind me," she firmly stated, eyelids drooping.

A man stood against a corner of the Doric, a nasty smirk arising on his lips. He clutched a filthy, meaty hand onto the side of his face, a purplish bruise forming on his cheek.

She bent upwards and slowly made her way towards the figure, irritability in her eyes. "Sadik, I'm here for my child."

"Well you shouldn't 'a had him! You've created a new country! You're gonna die-"

Hellas struck him with a slender hand, darkening the mark already on his face. "This isn't your home. You have no right to say such a thing."

The man wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. She glanced reassuringly to Heracles, who was busy chasing a calico cat around the field with a tree branch. Normally she would shout at the child and give him a time out, but there were worse things on her mind at the moment. As long as he didn't notice the two adults this close to each other she didn't care what he was doing.

The scent of sweat and the earth started to become overpowering enough to make the woman hold a few fingers to her nose. "How could you let that Rome fella get you pregnant? You could live longer without any of the men in your life." The Turk squeezed her closer. "Of course ya can still have me though."

"You're the last man I would want to devote my life to, trust me," Hellas growled, her brunette head resting on his broad shoulder. Sadik pulled one of her hands to his chest, holding it there with little strength.

They stayed like this for a moment, Sadik lost in the beauty of the Greek and Hellas doing just the opposite towards him. What _was _there to see in a greedy, filthy, bastard like him? _No one_ was going to tear her family apart for their personal needs.

He turned their faces to face each other, removing his hand from his body to caress the woman's cheek. Her hand stayed loosely on the Turk's chest.

"I love you, Hellas."

"I know."

Silence once again.

The Greek turned back to her son, who was now trying to climb a tree but failing to grab the tree trunk twice his height hanging above him. A few leaps and Hellas let out a giggle.

"He's growing up so quickly." A look of anxiety and achievement arose on her now scarlet cheeks. She looked back at the man she despised so sharply, feeling her eyes become hawk-like. "And he will be stronger than you ever were."

"I'll prove ya wrong. No one can be more powerful than me!" With these words, Sadik smoothly lifted her chin and connected their lips. She tried to push him away, but the grasp he obtained on now her hips and back made the two adults stay squished until the Turk pushed her away from his hold.

"So, when do ya want me to kill ya?" he asked, his voice booming enough to make Heracles twist his attention towards the shenanigans going outside of the granite temple. The child's tiny fists clenched.

Hellas swiveled her head to her son.

_I hope he didn't hear him..._

"Uh...um...How about we talk about this inside?" she asked, moving her hand away from his chest to slide a silken sleeve off of her shoulder.

* * *

"Promise me you'll be strong. No matter what happens, you'll be okay, okay?"

"Yes, Momma."

The mother stroked Heracles hair, swiping the bangs out of his eyes. "Momma?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Hellas placed herself on the side of his bed, gliding a hand along the sheepskin blankets. "Don't question your mother."

"I will see you in the morning, right?" he asked, disregarding her answer.

She released a deep sigh from her quivering lips. "Heracles..."

"Its okay Momma. I know that no matter what, I'll be strong, just for you!" he grinned and nodded, slowly shutting his eyes and rolling over.

_Typical man, _she thought as she gave her son a kiss on the forehead and stood up. Hellas made her way out of his room and into the scent of night air outside.

She inhaled to calm her nerves down. There was no way Sadik could have the audacity to plunge a sword into her, right?

The crunching of leaves in the near distance put her thoughts to a halt. She turned on her heel and posed as if she were about to attack, but she was lacking weapons and she already knew who it was.

"I love you, Hellas."

"I know."

Sadik stomped toward her, pulling out a kilij from his belt. He filled the air with the scent of alcohol and incense.

Or maybe he would.

"Hellas, why won't you love me?" He carelessly swung his sword around until he hit something. A whimper erupted out of the woman, who was now clutching her breast. Scarlet liquid poured out of her chest.

"Poor Sadik, thinking I don't love him." She fell to her side and dragged the Turk down with her by his pants, the dried mud below her breaking and soaking her left side and going into her wound. Weakly, she used the rest of her strength to swipe his mask down from his face, only to notice tears of regret and shame pouring out of his eyes.

"Take good care of my son."


End file.
